


Envy

by scrltvizh



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cross-Posted on Wattpad, F/M, Fanfiction, Fluff, Happy Ending, Jealousy, OTP Feels, Random & Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 11:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18691033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrltvizh/pseuds/scrltvizh
Summary: Wanda and Vision take turns being jealous ;)





	1. Vision

Human emotions were baffling. He thought he considered Wanda a friend until just now, when he selfishly wished she'd stop smiling. Why didn't he want her to smile? He cared about her happiness, and in that moment she was happy, so why did it bother him that this time Captain Rogers was the one to make her laugh?

He watched through the reflection in the glass window as Steve helped Wanda into her jacket, his knuckles lightly brushing her arms. It was irrelevant whether or not this gesture was intentional. It hurt just the same.

Wanda called out to Vision as they headed towards the door. "We'll be back in a few hours, are you sure you don't want to come?"

He stared at the blank words in the book he was holding, pretending to read. Maybe he should go after all, but why be miserable all afternoon, watching her laugh at the Captain's bad jokes? He pretended turning the page, but did it too quickly and forcefully; a small ripping sound erupted as a tear appeared at the bottom of page 72.

"No, I'll just stay here. Tony might have something for me to do at the lab." He turned around to meet her gaze, forcing a smile.

"Oh, okay. Yeah, that's fine, too," she nodded and returned that same smile as she followed Steve out the door.

He turned back to the book as a soft click sounded behind him, letting him know the door had closed and she was gone. A swift movement of his wrist and the book slammed shut angrily, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. He wanted her to be happy, but not with any other man than him.


	2. Wanda

"Drax tried to explain to me what a joke was, but I still don't understand." Mantis sighed and shook her head. "I'm hopeless," she said sadly. Her antennae drooped and the lights emanating from them dimmed.

"No, that's not true," Vision replied as his hand reached up to pat her back.

He'd been around humans for quite some time now and came to understand things like touch. In cases like these, when reassurance was needed, a gentle touch could be encouraging. And though Mantis wasn't human, her emotions were very similar to those of a human, just like his.

It was brief but Mantis's expression lit up a little afterwards, as he'd hoped. "Tell me a joke? I know I'm not the best at them but I'll try to help," he offered.

Mantis smiled, and Vision couldn't help but return it. "Why did the chicken cross the road?" she asked optimistically.

Vision frowned. This was going to be difficult.

***

Wanda walked through the halls confidently, excitement coursing through her. She couldn't help the slight smile creep across her face at the thought of the flying lessons Vision had offered to give her tonight. They mostly consisted of Wanda practicing to concentrate her energy on lifting herself off the ground and Vision supervising and shouting encouraging words at her, but sometimes she'd pretend to slip so he'd have to catch her.

She wouldn't call it a crush, exactly, not yet, but there was something about him...

She approached the kitchen doorway, preparing to walk past it and make a turn down the hall, but something told her to peek inside. She regretted it as immediately as the urge took hold of her. Vision and Mantis laughed about something in the space behind the counter, looking closer together than they probably were. Wanda backtracked quickly, peeking behind the door frame against her better judgement, and watched with a frown as Mantis grabbed his shoulder for support as she clutched her stomach with laughter. Vision looked at her with wonder and chuckled.

Wanda watched until a sick feeling started gnawing at her stomach, then she forced herself off the wall and continued on, not turning back.

So maybe it  _was_  a crush...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! One more chapter left (the fluffy one)   
> :) I'll update as soon as I can


	3. WandaVision

“Wanda.” Vision spoke, his mood light. He walked into the large training room contentedly, the light coming in through the wall of windows pleasant and warm, basking the space in the yellow coloring of a New York sunset. Although, despite the beautiful scenery on display outside the compound, the first thing Vision noticed as he walked in was the way the light fell onto The Scarlet Witch’s hair, highlighting her appreciatively by the silk cascading down her shoulders. She floated in mid-air, red tendrils leaking from her slender fingers as she stared out into the sky, clearly oblivious to The Vision’s entrance. He understood that she hadn’t heard him, and started to prepare adjusting his vocal volume, when his gaze dropped. He stood, awestruck, at the way her leggings clung to her skin, revealing the slim, breathtaking curves of her legs and hips.

Beauty—a word with a description so vast and varied—was something he never thought he’d be able to comprehend. As long as he’d been alive, he’d heard people use the word to describe scenery, situations, _women_. Of course, the sunset was beautiful. It had always been beautiful. But he understood now, as she stood next to it, why it looked so dull and unappealing compared to her.

She turned suddenly, as if she had just then noticed another presence in the room, evidently distracted by the glory of the pink and yellow sky. He felt warmth pool into his cheeks when she smiled back at him and muttered “Stalker” just loud enough for him to hear.

“I apologize. I’m approximately two minutes late,” he said, and the smile went from his face as hers fell almost immediately after the remark. Vision had never been late to a meeting with her before, and all Wanda could think now was that Mantis was the reason. She tried to smile again, but it couldn’t quite reach her eyes, and he wasn’t quite paying attention, his gaze shifted to his shoes. Her mind wanted to slip into his, reassure itself, but her brain wasn’t as confident in his loyalty to her, and knew that if she found what she suspected, it would hurt.

Little did she know, Mantis was the thing farthest from his mind as he contemplated the somewhat disturbing fact that had just come to his realization. Was it possible that his very mood was determined by the expression on Wanda's face?

“That’s alright. I noticed on my way here that you were presently…” while she searched for the right word he tilted his head further as the space between his brows creased “Occupied.” She added quickly “Which is none of my business, of course.”

He nodded slowly, not in agreement but disappointment. His thoughts were clearly elsewhere, and again, she felt inclined to know what he was thinking, _and again_ , she stopped herself.

“How about a quick sparring match?” she suggested instead, as brightly as she could. She dropped to the ground and punched his shoulder lightly. “No powers.” She raised her fists in the air and stood facing him with a bit of spring in her step.

He nodded again, gaze fixed on the unremarkable floor. He raised his arms loosely, his stance weak, which allowed her to try out a new move Natasha had just shown her how to execute. She readily dropped to the floor, kicking his legs out from under him on her way down. He fell with a soft thud to the mat, eyes wide with surprise. She smirked, pleased that she finally managed to obtain his attention. “That was cruel,” he complained loudly, sitting up on his elbows and glaring at her.

Wanda jumped to her feet, choking back a retort about him being distracted by someone else. She offered him her hand, which he took, his fingers gripping above her wrist firmly yet gently at the same time and in a way only he ever could. She hesitated, distracted at the way he touched her, but a smirk revealed itself on his face and before she could move to get away, she was on the mat lying next to him, winded.

“Seems like you were distracted, Wanda,” he said, his mouth set in a firm line. She huffed, annoyed, but didn’t attempt to get back up. “Speaking of Captain Rogers, how was your evening last night?”

She arched an eyebrow, moving to sit on her elbows. “What are you talking about?” she asked, annoyance present in her voice and on her face. He couldn’t possibly think she’d rather spend time with Steve. “If I’m remembering correctly, I invited you to come with us.”

“Why would I? It seemed like…” He trailed off, but as he avoided her gaze and continued to stay silent, Wanda understood. She felt the sudden urge to reach out, place a hand on his arm, make him look her in the eyes, but there was still the fear of rejection that took over all other wants, all other needs. It bothered her but she couldn’t help that it controlled her.

Wanda stood and faced him, waiting for him to look up. He didn’t.

“It wasn’t,” Wanda spoke softly, before turning to leave. So she didn’t get to see his head rise at that statement. Didn’t get to see his mouth open and close repeatedly, not having enough time to find the right words. Didn’t get to see him staring hopelessly after her, his hand twitching up ever so slightly, reaching. But she could hardly see anything, anyway, through watery eyes.

***

“Vizh?”

Vision turned around from his place on the couch and offered a smile. “What are you doing up?” he asked, and turned his gaze to the clock on the wall. It read 2 A.M.

She held up an empty glass and turned on the tap. “What about you?”

“Reading,” he said shortly, and placed his book on the coffee table. After a moment he asked if she’d gotten any sleep, to which she replied by taking a long sip of water.

“Not really.” She took another sip but said nothing more.

He looked down at his hands, red and grey and soft but strong. It made him frown, remembering what happened in the afternoon. He regretted his reluctance to explain to her how he felt, although now he feared he would never be able to control them. Jealousy and fear. Both stupid emotions. Both possessing the ability to drive a man to do selfish things. How incredibly embarrassing it was that he let those fuel his reason. She didn’t deserve for him to hold back. She deserved honesty. “Sit with me?”

She hesitated slightly before nodding, and he could only hope it was out of a pleasant shock.

He scooted over so she could sit on his right, her loose-fitting shorts doing very little to hide her small legs, and he was almost ashamed of noticing how they rode up when she sat down.

Wanda placed her glass on the table and sat back, while he straightened up and faced her in a way he hoped reflected the confidence he wished he possessed.  “I’m sorry about this afternoon.” She shook her head no, with a furrowed brow and a smile, but he continued firmly “I feel like we need to talk about it.”

She looked him in the eyes for the first time since she sat down. A small “okay” slipped from her lips as she continued staring. Attempting to break her gaze from them was a challenge. She wondered how anyone could look at his eyes and not find themselves getting lost in those blue irises, so much more than color and metal. He looked away finally, breaking the witch from the trance.

He had to, what else could he have done? An idea sparked in his mind as he took a quick glance back, his gaze falling onto her lush, pink lips, as he wondered sinfully if they felt as soft as they looked. He disregarded it just as quickly and a bit too reluctantly, forcing himself to remember why he was sitting next to her in the first place. “I’m sorry if I upset you,” he said in a voice he didn’t recognize, heavy with the weight of the atmosphere around them. “I never meant to, I was just…”

“…Envious.” She was picking at a loose string hanging from her shirt, only looking up at him after he stayed silent.

“Yes,” he said finally, and looked down as well. Was she angry at him? Disappointed? He couldn’t tell when her head was bent, and even then, there was hardly any expression on her face. He almost wished she would merge their thoughts, just to know how harshly she thought of him now. He wasn’t paying attention as she moved, his thoughts bent on scaring him into lea—

And suddenly, there was a hand on his, and even his brain was slower to process it than the beat of his heart, which quickened dangerously, and the very visible movement of his chest rising and falling heavily as soon as her skin touched his, and the widening of his eyes and sound of his breath speeding faster with each second her hand stayed.

She watched as he froze, thinking maybe it wasn’t a good idea after all. But then again, she hadn’t thought about reaching for him before her hand was already in motion. She’d suggested a word that described her, only hoping he’d feel the same, and for once ignored the frightening possibility that he wouldn’t want her. That he wanted someone else. And he’d dismissed those suspicions, which gave her confidence she clearly didn’t have the right to. Now how long could she stay there, waiting for him to do something he never would? “Me too,” she managed, before doing what was best for both of them and pulling her hand away.

He almost shuddered at the loss of contact, his world suddenly becoming so much colder. Now she had positioned herself on the edge of the sofa, and he could tell she was trying to decide whether she should go. But at the thought his mind reeled, and he realized he’d led her to think her touch made him uncomfortable, another lie he’d encouraged because of his stupidity. How could he _possibly_ not want her? And if she wanted him too—

She got up then. She reached for her glass. And at some point in time, in-between those two actions, he’d acquired some sense.

His hand shot up around her arm, and if it was anyone else, she would’ve jumped at the suddenness of it. She looked down at him, leaning forward on the couch to reach her, his eyes fixed on hers. They were clouded with her shape, dark and lusty and light and lovely. Only he could ever possess such a genuine contrast of character.

Before he realized it, he was leading her into his lap and she was following, near-astonishment fixed on her face. He moved her slowly and gently, making sure she could easily twist out of his grasp, but she didn’t try. It only encouraged him to keep going, and by now, fear and jealously were replaced with the something that she’d awakened in him, causing him to look down from her dilated pupils and run his eyes over her. He admired the way she hadn’t bothered to find matching socks, the dips and curves in her shins up to her knees, her toned thighs and loose-fitting shorts which now covered _too_ much. His gaze dragged up over her stomach, which was at his eye-level, to the curves of her breasts underneath the oversized shirt she wore, up her delicate neck and back to her beautiful face.

She’d been watching the whole time, high on the sight of him running his eyes over her like that. Like she was more stunning than a New York sunset. She reached behind her to set her glass back down, and let go of Vision’s hand to place both of hers on his shoulders. He leaned back so she could straddle him, the cushions on either side dipping slightly under her weight. He sucked in a breath at the closeness, their eyes never leaving each other’s.  

An arm snaked around her waist after he realized he should be touching her, while his other hand reached up to rest lightly on her thigh. She continued forward, her eyes fixed on his, as he tried his best to keep his breathing steady. A hand reached up to cup his cheek and she smiled. He’d never been more attracted to anything in his life.

Their foreheads touched, now, and all the confidence that had surged forward to help in her decision-making was a product of the way he held her to him, the way he’d led her into his lap after pleading with her to stay. They were so alone in the dim light of the living room at two in the morning and she felt it where their bodies met through their clothes. The want.

The kiss was more forceful than she meant it to be, but she couldn’t stop the need she felt for his lips to be on hers and the heat it picked up when he tangled his hand in her hair. God, she felt softer than he could’ve ever imagined. Her hands raked down over his chest as she brushed her tongue along his lower lip, which he took into his mouth immediately. The wait was over and forgotten. The jealousy reciprocated and unneeded.  

She finally, slowly pulled away, her arms wrapped around his neck and his resting on her hips. “I don’t want anyone else but you.”

He kissed her and smiled. “You’re all I need.”


End file.
